


Hissrad

by petercapaldiscoiffure



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Inquisition spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petercapaldiscoiffure/pseuds/petercapaldiscoiffure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they bring her the news, she's almost surprised - but not quite. Tamassrans rarely are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hissrad

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some banter Cole and Iron Bull have about him going Tal-Vashoth. Apologies for any Qunlat misspellings!

When they bring her the news, she's almost surprised - but not quite.  _Tamassrans_  rarely are.

She has loved all the children that have come through her care, in her way, and officially she has loved them all equally, uniformly and without preference. But when she remembers his bright, open face, not just how clever he was, but how kind, always so eager to help - she will admit, if only to herself, that he was her favorite.

When she knew that he was bound for the  _Ben-Hassrath_ , she felt pride - of course, he would be meant for nothing less. No mere worker or soldier, him. His breeding had done him well.

But still she worried for the sweet little boy that would grow into the man that would become  _Hissrad_. It is a hard task, a hard role, and he always had such a soft smile.

So when they bring her the news, no, she is not entirely surprised. When they tell her that he's sworn his service to the one the  _bas_  call the Herald, she is disappointed. When they tell her it's rumored he's been...involved, with this so-called Herald, a  _saarebas_  at that, her stomach turns cold. 

Then they leave, and she is alone, with her papers and charts and schedules and the happy sounds of children playing in the yards. She closes her eyes and is surprised, finally, to find that she can still recall his warm grey eyes and his too-big feet and cocky, gap-toothed grin with perfect clarity.

She expects the sour twist of failure in her gut at the memory - and that she has in spades.  _  
_

What she didn't expect is how bitterly it tastes of loss.


End file.
